Break
by twistedxdesires
Summary: Dreams provide an escape from reality... However, when these dreams force Ezio into the realm of nightmares, he begins to question his own sanity and the strength of his character.
1. Chapter 1 And So it Begins

**What's thisss? An Assassin's Creed fanfiction? No way! **

**This is actually brand-new kittens, so I hope you enjoy. Rate and whatnot at your discretion. I welcome all feedback. Even negative :D**

**Also: I do not own any of the characters listed, though I do own the game. Credit for their creation goes to Assassin Creed's brilliant makers. I will always be in their debt.**

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From where he sat, Ezio had a perfect view of the festivities…

Brown eyes glinted with interest from behind a mask that did more to hide his identity than the traditional cowl ever could. He sat comfortably on a rooftop's edge, looking down upon the merry crowd, silently toying with the idea of a masked assassin rather than a hooded one. Or perhaps a masked, hooded assassin… Surely it would hold the same measure of mysterious allure…? Maybe even more so. Hm.

He watched the people dance below him, spinning and turning in time with the music that drifted up to his ears. Fire breathers mingle amongst the crowd, lighting the night with flashes of brilliant flames that seemed to be born from their bellies, rivaling that of the curious sparklers that spun from the banners draped over their heads. Acrobats were also placed intermittently, supporting their weight (sometimes, a little too much weight in Ezio's opinion… Especially for clothes so _tight_) on their hands and showing off their balance. Everyone seemed entranced by the mood of gaiety that prevailed at this time of Carnivale.

In silence, he surveyed all this, eyes flicking through the crowd as he suppressed the childish urge to join the fun. He had a purpose here. Such simplicities could be enjoyed another day, when he was not charged with ending someone's life. Despite that thought, scarred lips twisted into a smile beneath the porcelain mask.

A surge of impatience drove him to switch his sight to that of the eagles'; scanning those gathered below on the off chance he had missed something. The lanterns around him suddenly took on an ethereal glow as the world blurred then darkened. A far off group of courtesans glowed a dazzling blue, the only patches of color among the crowd of dancers. Not even the red of guards permeated the area with their offensive presence. At least, if they were there at that moment, they were no threat to him… For now, all was safe and clear and dismally devoid of much color. A thin tendril of frustration snaked its way through Ezio's mind at the blatant lack of shimmering gold.

His target was late…

The assassin gave the crowd one last dismissive once-over, sighing softly. Perhaps it would be best to meet the target in transit rather than here. It would certainly be less populated…

But wait… a flash of gold, just beyond the real span of his vision. Ezio smiled as his target moved slowly into his view, flanked by three guards. Red and gold now lit up the once dim scene, draining the area of what little color it had while his eyes used this sight. He stood and silently dropped down onto a streamer-adorned post to get a better vantage point, watching as his target made his way through the dancing venetians.

Switching back to his normal vision, Ezio could see the look of unease the guards all shared. They too, like the watching _assassino_ knew just how dangerous it was amongst a chaotic group like this… He considered the three lightly armored men, thanking _Dio_ that their charge still found such festivities invigorating. It made things all the easier for him. Now… what should be done first…?

From his perch, Ezio weighed his options. Should he take the guards down first, then his target? Or perhaps the target then the guards…? He shifted his balance slightly as he thought, holding his arms aloft to keep from falling. _The target then the guards,_ he decided with a sense of inevitability, knowing that upon the man's death more guards would follow anyway, drawn by the surrounding peoples' startled and fearful screams. What were three more guards added to that number? If things got too troublesome, he could always sprint away… A quick glance brought the canal into view. Although _Venezia's_ water wasn't exactly known for being clean, it was till a better alternative to an arrow piercing his flesh. Or a spear. Or a dagger. Or a sword. Anything with a sharp point, really. He'd rather stink than be in pain-or worse- dead. But his escape wasn't exactly the main thing to consider here… He had a target to kill…

And with that determination, the moment was upon them both, target and assassin…

Ezio swallowed, taking a deep breath before propelling himself off the post towards the man dressed in far from somber finery. In mid-air, he extended a hidden blade with the flick of his thumb, lips pressed into a tight smile brought on by the momentary exhilaration of flight. Then it was up to gravity to lend him force as his hand snapped to the man's throat, blade burying itself deep into flesh. His free hand flashed out to stabilize his landing, absorbing the remainder of his weight and transferring that energy into the pavers upon which he now crouched. The man fell, red hat tumbling from his head as his hands fluttered uselessly, not quite pulling at the metal that invaded his person, though his eyes clearly said that is what he desired. The man choked as the blade slid from his throat, the sound alone sickening. Ezio turned to face him, wishing to get a true look at his target's face before the man died.

Words died in the assassin's throat as his eyes met the man's own. Ice spread through his veins, slowly numbing his body; the world around him slowed to a crawl. The man's expression was clearly startled, completely unprepared for such a quick demise. A terrible noise gurgled from his throat as he parted bloodied lips to say something, shredded windpipe not even granting him that last wish.

Ezio's own throat went dry, eyes tracing over the man's features, taking it in; seeing, but not believing; rejecting this horrible sight before him. Yet the blood on his hands was still there, warming his skin. His voice was hoarse when he finally managed to speak, moving to cradle the man's form in an unspoken apology. "Leonardo…" He whispered the name and shock coursed through him at its finality. "I'm sorry…" The murmured words would do nothing, for the artist was too far gone. In his arms, his friend drew his last breath, once bright eyes growing dim, the old vivaciousness of his expression as his soul left his body. He paid no mind as the guards around him rallied, weapons drawn, to kill one so brash as to kill their charge in their presence. "So sorry…" The apology simply wasn't enough, as Leonardo's blood began to dry on Ezio's hands and stain his robes. It would never be enough...

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**I actually like this. Alsoooo... I have decided that this will have at least one other chapter. (If only so I can torture myself some more) So um... again... let me know what you think, ok?**


	2. Chapter 2 Cruelty of the Mind

**Mmk so I hope I didn't turn off any potential readers with the whole Leonardo death thing. I had this idea in my head and I just had to get it out. 'tis the usual fate of my ideas. I hope you do read on and enjoy this in its entirety. **

**Usual disclaimers apply.**

**Enjoy, kittens~**

Ezio awoke with a strangled gasp, eyes flashing open as he nearly fell from his chair. He choked on his next breath, eyes spinning wildly to take in his surroundings, if anything- to anchor him in this reality. He was… in Leonardo's workshop… Leo… He calmed slightly as this fact registered within him, something in his heart twisting in abatement. A dream… or rather… a nightmare…

"Ezio?" the voice of his friend was colored with concern as Leonardo himself stepped into view, apparently troubled by the assassin's violent awakening. "Is everything all right?" His soft voice was like a godsend to the troubled younger man.

"Leonardo…" The name left him in a pained groan, but this time relief, not grief, cracked his voice. "Thank _Dio_… it was just a dream…" A sigh passed through his lips, his heart still pounding in his chest.

It had been like this for months now. Each time it had been another target, a different victim in a different place. First, it had been his mother. Then Claudia; then Mario. His mind had also hauled up the ghosts of his past, and his father and brothers fell to him as well. Over and over, their death's repeated, killing him as he killed them. This had been the first time Leonardo joined the cycle. And with his death, no matter how simply not real it was, Ezio felt the biggest part of him die.

He swallowed thickly as he turned to get a decent look at his friend, eyes traveling over his form, doing an assessment for any damage. Convinced that the artists was not going to collapse or die on him, the assassin heaved a sigh, his entire body slumping as he forced tense muscles to relax. _It was a dream._ He told himself firmly, though nothing in his mind would believe it. It had felt so _real_.

"It was nothing, Leonardo. Just a dream." Despite his best efforts, he could not keep the pain from his voice. "_Mi dispiace_. I did not mean to worry you…"

Leonardo frowned, hands fluttering, as they always tended to do when he was unsure of his next action. "A nightmare?" he asked softly, searching Ezio's face for answers.

Ezio considered lying, then thought better of it. He knew the truth lay clear in his eyes. After a moment of thought, he nodded. "Yes, but it is nothing to worry about. Please, do not concern yourself… There is no need." As he answered, he did his best to rearrange his features into something that was at least remotely reassuring.

Leonardo continued to study his expression, eyes passing critically over every line and curve before focusing on his eyes. Worry creased his forehead as he let out a gentle sigh. "All right… But if it becomes a problem, please let me know." As the wary assassin had expected, he had seen the truth there; seen the pain crying out to him from behind those brown eyes. He forced himself to swallow the want down; to resist the need to help and comfort the younger man- to discover what caused such unrest in him and put a stop to it immediately. He tucked those urges away, enough of a friend to worry in silence and not push the matter. At least…not yet.

If_ it becomes a problem? It is one… I hardly sleep anymore… and when I do it is restless and filled with fear of what is to come._ Ezio kept these pitiful tidbits to himself, forcing a smile onto his lips, hoping it didn't look too much like a grimace. "_Grazie,_ _mio amico_." He stood carefully, curiosity seizing him. "Did you manage to finish before I…ah… disturbed you?" He moved to Leonardo's side, flushing in mild embarrassment at his previous show of weakness.

His reason for being at the workshop had come back to him as his mind calmed, and now he was wondering if he should be guilty for stopping Leonardo in his work. To his dismay, the hidden blade in his right bracer had needed to be repaired after some loathsome guard managed to loose the blade from its setting with a forceful blow from his ax, and Leonardo was the only man Ezio could trust to do the job properly and without worry of word getting out. It certainly helped to have a close friend with such skill. He could only assume he had fallen asleep during the wait.

Both men seemed to find solace in the sudden change of topic as Leonardo jumped to provide the question with an answer. "Ah yes, I did actually. Not too long before you woke. I did not want to bother you…" He moved to his worktable, picking the bracer up with gentle fingers. He smiled, passing it into Ezio's waiting hands. "I hope you will find it to your satisfaction- I made sure to keep it as original as possible since you had no problems with it before."

Ezio strapped the bracer to his wrist, finding a strange comfort in the familiar weight. Wordlessly, he extended the blade, eyes traveling over it in quiet admiration. As always, the work was flawless, like everything Leonardo did. He couldn't help but notice the small amount of detail added to the blade, nearly invisible until it was turned so the etching could catch the light. It was simple, yet beautiful- a swirl of intermingling lines blended to form the assassin's crest- and Ezio smiled at the sight of it. "I can never thank you enough, Leonardo,_" _he murmured, detracting the blade and looking at his friend with pure gratitude. "This is wonderful. Truly it is."

Leonardo beamed under the praise, cheeks turning a faint red. He never was good with compliments, no matter how many he received. "It is nothing, really. I was happy to mend it. It does interest me after all. This gave me another chance to study the mechanism and see if perhaps an improvement can be made to make it even more efficient." As usual, his eyes lit up as he spoke of any aspect of his work, commissioned or otherwise.

Ezio chuckled softly in amusement, enjoying the excitement in the other's voice. It was a nice improvement to the dark mood that had threatened to consume him before. "And what did you discover?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, lips twisted into a crooked smile.

"Oh, well…" The artist smiled sheepishly. "I wasn't able to determine much, no. If I had more time to look it over-" He stopped himself before he had really begun, an impressive feat in itself. "I wanted to finish it before you woke." He concluded, "So I finished the work I had started and put it back together. I did manage to get some sketches though." He gestured to the papers that littered the table.

Ezio nodded. "_Buono_. If you manage to find anything, let me know. I always have an open ear to whatever improvements you may have in mind. So far, you have not led me astray." His eyes fell once more to the blade hidden in his bracer. No, the artist had not…

Leonardo grinned. "_Grazie_, Ezio."

The two men fell into a silence that was not uncomfortable, the younger of the two casting his eyes about in an interest that always captivated him inside the sanctuary of the workshop.

"Well…" At last, the silence was broken, as Ezio sighed softly. "It should safe for me to go out now. _Grazie_." The '_for a safe place to stay'_ remained unspoken, but understood, as he moved to the door.

Leonardo nodded. "If you should ever need anything, Ezio, you know my door is open to you." His smile was warm with the affection of friend ship.

"_Arrivederci_, _mio amico._" Ezio flashed a bright, crooked smile before stepping out into the street, blending into the mingling people before Leonardo could have a chance to place him…

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**See? He's okay! Nothing to worry about, right? Right? Review, if you please. I really would enjoy some feedback. More to follow. Tah, kittens~**


	3. Chapter 3 Not So Tender Care

Whoa whoa whoa, what is this, _what is this_? An actual update? No way, right? Okay so I'm seriously sorry for not updating sooner. My computer has a supreme dislike for this site, the likes of which I have never seen before. I hope I can appease your anger at being kept waiting for so long with an extra-long chapter. Please love me still, I try very hard.

Enjoy, Kittens~

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With his back to Leonardo's workshop, Ezio huffed out a breath. Almost anxiously, he eyed the people milling about the small square created by the taller buildings. A few gathered beneath a tree, near the area's well, far enough away that its gaping mouth threatened to drag none into the underlying canal. He heard none of their conversation, and did not care to.

A feather drifted into his field of vision, falling lightly from above, reminding him suddenly and painfully of Petruccio. He frowned, lips pressing into a tight line, forcefully closing his mind to the memory- any memories- that would bring up dark thoughts. The time for misery was not now.

_The swinging of Petruccio's body as he hung from the hangman's noose..._

Reality.

_A dagger stabbed deep into the young boy's chest, his brother's blood staining his hands a maddening red..._

Nightmare.

He looked away from the feather, hands clenching at his sides, his heart heavy.

The area was wretchedly devoid of distraction, not even a passing patrol of guards to catch his interest. He grimly forced himself to move on, baring his teeth and swallowing thickly. With a lasting glance at the conversing people, then at Leonardo's workshop, he set off, steering towards the welcome sight of stacked crates. An off-white sheet gleamed in the fading sunlight, most likely a long forgotten piece of laundry that had once been left to dry.

Breaking into a sprint, he propelled himself up and upon them, leaping lithely onto the wooden post, then onto a hanging sign. He considered his next destination for but a moment, jumping and pulling himself onto the bricked archway.

The wooden crossbeam was next. Turning to his right, he toed his way onto the creaking platform, pausing for a second outside the lit window before propelling himself across the gap and onto the iron lattice. Another second and he was swinging on a rail, to land heavily on a post below. Onward he leapt, from one post to the next, until he thudded on the small dock that lay adjacent to a small garden that thrived with flowers. Inhaling their sweet scent, he turned his attention to a gondola that floated peacefully at the dock's edge.

He always kept one here, so close to Leonardo's abode, for if ever he needed it. It creaked protests under his weight, but held firm. Soon he was off, gliding down the canal, eyes unfocused as he lost himself in the sound of the water streaking past the gondola's sides. The steady rhythm of his rowing was a calming, repetitive thing, and required little focus on his part. Beneath a bridge and a sparse scaffold he traveled, until the calls of a herald reached his ears. Nothing new was to be heard, but he slowed to stop anyway, finding the area as good of a place as any. He steered the gondola to the side of the platform to the best of his novice ability, walking carefully to the head of the boat.

A group of courtesans grinned at him as he stepped off the boat and up the steps, giggling from behind perfumed fans. He smiled softly, dipping his head slightly before waving off their advances. He wasn't in the mood for their 'comforts' tonight...

Ezio dug into his purse as he passed by a beggar, pausing before the man. He was slumped down, chin to chest, looking dead to the world around him. His hand seemed raised simply out of habit rather than by power of will. Thumbing a few coins, the assassin dropped twenty flourins into the man's dirty palm, continuing on his way. The man stammered his thanks behind him and stood quickly to run away before anyone could manage to mob him for a bit of coin.

Pausing at a nearby art merchant, Ezio inspected the master's wares, an amused smile twisting his scared lips as he spotted a copy of one of Leonardo's paintings. He considered this piece for a long moment, debating. The gallery in the villa did have a few bare spots left. "Would you like to purchase something?" The apprentice asked in a soft tone that told volumes about how he was treated. After another pause, Ezio nodded.

"That one." He pointed to the piece he had been studying.

"_Adoration of the Magi_?" The master of the shop uncrossed his arms. "A true masterpiece by _Maestro_ Da' Vinci."

Ezio grunted his agreement softly. "How much?"

"Well, this is a recent painting by the _Maestro_ and a near flawless copy." The master mused, fingers scraping at the stubble on his chin. "I would say around 9,000 flourins."

He did not carry that much on him, but there was much more than that hidden in his room at the brothel and even more in the chest at the villa. "Have it delivered to the villa in Monteriggioni. A woman by the name of Claudia will pay you."

"Of course, of course." The man bobbed his head in agreement. "Immediately. _Grazie _for the purchase."

Ezio raised a hand in farewell, watching as the master turned to cuff the apprentice's ear and yell gruffly. Shaking his head in amusement, he turned, running up the nearest wall to catch a windowsill. Suddenly, he did not feel like prowling the ground any longer. Watchers be damned.

He pulled himself to one handhold then the next, eventually reaching the roof's edge. He heaved himself up with a gentle grunt, and then quickly faced the adjoining building, running up to haul himself to the next level. Once upright, he dusted off his hands on his robes, shaded eyes surveying the city that opened up before him.

The sun hung low in the sky, the world darkening enough that the moon was already visible. He held his breath in silent appreciation. Venice truly was a city of beauty. It was no wonder Leonardo thought it so inspirational. A warning shout caught his attention, and he turned to face the guard who stood poised with an arrow pointed in his direction. Words of his brother Federico floated into his mind, unbidden yet helpful. _"The guards on the rooftops will give you two warnings. One is verbal, and if you manage to leave their sight before then you may continue without much incident. However, the second warning is a single shot of their arrow. Almost certain to hit you, this is your last chance to flee before they call out an alert. The rooftops may seem to have their own brand of freedom, brother, but they are no less dangerous than the streets below. Sometimes, it is better to take the lower path than risk the guard's wrath." _

Ezio smiled grimly. That was warning number one. "Get down!" The guard snapped one last time, pulling back the string of his bow and letting loose the arrow. Ezio dove out of the way, landing roughly on the roof tiles. Warning two. He pushed himself up quickly, sprinting across the rooftop and towards the archer.

"_Assassino!" _The man cried and readied another shot. This time, Ezio wasn't so lucky. As he leapt across the gap separating their respective rooftops, the arrow sunk deep into his shoulder. Gritting his teeth against the sudden pain, he landed hard, stumbling onto one knee as he fought to fill his lungs with air. Still, the young assassin forced his legs to lift and carry him in a heavy run. The guard drew his dagger, feet shifting into a loose fighting stance. Ezio flicked out his hidden blade with a thumb, springing into the air with all intentions of pouncing upon the man and sinking his blade into his throat.

The guard lifted the dagger into a weak counter at the last second and the hidden blade screeched along its length, throwing Ezio off guard. As the assassin landed, the guard threw all his weight forward, shifting his opponent's momentum against him. Caught off balance, Ezio teetered dangerously at the building's edge, his heel hanging out over the water of the canal below. One last shove from the guard and he was sent tumbling downward.

Ezio turned in mid air so he had adopted something resembling a diving form, but had forgotten about the awning that was below. He slammed into the overhang, his body sent into a wild pinwheel. The air whooshed from his lungs and he gasped for air, falling with his back to the water, body limp. His mouth was filled with the vile water of the canal as he landed with a splash, mouth still open in hopes of catching some much-needed air. The assassin floundered in the water, eyes wide with sudden fear. Somehow, he made it to the surface. Choking, he swam to the wall, clinging onto one of the iron rings for his very life. There he remained until he was able to breathe again.

It was a while yet before he dare attempt the swim to the nearest steps. His limbs shook as he crawled onto the dry pavers, tremors traveling through aching muscles. The arrow still stuck out from his shoulder, but for now, it was forgotten amongst his other pains. His ribs twinged painfully with every breath, and he realized with dismay that they were most likely badly bruised, if not cracked or worse. Slowly, he forced himself to stand, casting his eyes about in an effort to determine where he was. He knew he needed to be treated; soon.

Ezio kept to the shadows, not wanting to draw attention to himself or the arrow that protruded from his shoulder. He could have easily pulled it out, but he wasn't sure if that was wise; he had no idea what damage the damn thing had done so far without making things worse with foolish actions.

Once or twice, a passerby saw him, but thank _Dio _none came to investigate. By some sort of grace he managed to avoid the bright eyes of the guards, his passage aided by the growing darkness as the sun sank below the horizon.

His feet traveled a path he knew well, and by the time he had reached Leonardo's workshop, night had fallen. He hated returning so soon, but the artist truly was the only one he felt he could trust when it came to pulling an arrow out of his shoulder the _right_ way. Of course, the streets were littered with doctors and physicians, but their work was know to be steeped in superstition, and Ezio could not trust them to not ask any questions he was reluctant to answer.

The injured assassin glanced around anxiously. The milling people had long since left, and the courtyard was empty. He raised his fist to rap on the heavy wooden door, praying that Leonardo was still awake and not terribly busy. The answer came quickly; Leonardo opened the door to peek around the wood in curiosity at his guest. "Oh Ezio, how can I help you?" He smiled amiably, opening the door all the way.

Ah how he hated to disturb the artist like this… Ezio sighed and stepped from the shadow of the overhang into the light that spilled from the open door. "I'm afraid I need your help once more, _amico mio_."

Leonardo's smile collapsed into a concerned frown as he ushered the younger man inside, shutting the door heavily behind him. "Sit, sit." He pointed to a stool beside his worktable, turning to sift through a chest of drawers that stood on the opposite wall. "I thought you knew better now than to be caught by archers." He muttered, a tinge of frustration coloring his tone.

Ezio could only shrug, wincing as it pulled his shoulder. That was foolish… "I was distracted." He slowly removed his shirt to the best of his ability, leaving the arm pinned with the arrow intact.

"That much can be seen." Leonardo made an exasperated gesture in his direction. "You know I'm no physician, Ezio." He said as he turned, now brandishing a pair of iron clippers and bandages in one hand and a jar of a murky green, mud like substance.

"I know." Ezio murmured, properly scolded already. "But for things like this, those doctors cannot be trusted. I have an issue with putting my recovery in the hands of someone who hides his face."

Leonardo snorted softly. "I suppose you do not expect others to pay you the same treatment then? Very rarely does someone see your face. Do you suggest they trust you?" He studied the arrow's placement in the assassin's flesh, probing lightly at the area with his fingers before tugging experimentally at the shaft.

The younger man hissed in a sharp breath, sending a glare Leonardo's way. "No I do not." He returned, frowning as the pain in his shoulder subsided into a dull twinge. "There are few who could actually trust me."

"Understandable. It takes trust received to give it in return." The artist turned physician said softly, wrapping a hand around the arrow and bracing the other against his shoulder. "Are you ready? I should be able to pull it out. If not, I'll have to clip the shaft and cut the head out instead." Concerned eyes studied the young man's face.

Ezio nodded, grabbing a nearby strip of leather from the table and clamping it in between his teeth. His eyes closed as Leonardo gave the arrow a sharp tug. With a sickening sound, it left his flesh, and his scream of agony was muffled from between clenched teeth. Leonardo dropped it on the table, moving quickly to press a wad of cloth against the wound. "You are lucky." He murmured. "Very lucky."

Ezio gave him a weak grin. "I do not believe in luck." He slid his shirt off completely, discarding it on the table.

"Well you are lucky all the same." The artist reached for the bandages, lifting the cloth and inspecting the wound. "It's not too deep. However, the muscle will definitely twinge for a while, and you will have to avoid using it for at least a month." He wiped away the blood before scooping out a bit of mud and smoothing it into the wound.

The assassin hissed, frowning. "I cannot afford to not use my arm. I have things-"

"You can afford to." Leonardo said sharply, tugging the bandage purposefully tight around the shoulder. "You want this to heal, do you not?"

"Can you not be more gentle?" Ezio growled, patience thin from both pain and the harsh treatment. "I am not some corpse that you may abuse and maim, Leonardo."

"Obviously not." The artist replied, without losing a beat, reprimanding his snappy patient with yet another painful tug. "The cadavers don't complain nearly this much."

Ezio opened his mouth, then sighed, allowing his eyes to drift away from Leonardo and across the workshop.

"You need to be more careful. The people here need you." Leonardo continued, smoothing out the bandages and securing them around his shoulder. "Does anything else pain you?"

Reluctant to answer, Ezio stalled. "I purchased one of your paintings today. You really are talented. It was worth every coin." He muttered softly, eyes sliding briefly to Leonardo's face and then quickly away again.

"Which one?" The artist's voice took on a casual tone as he began further examination of Ezio's person, examining a swollen wrist and battered knuckles.

"Eh, Adoration of the Magi." He sucked in a gentle breath as fingers squeezed at his joints.

"Sprained, most likely." Leonardo dropped Ezio's hand, gesturing for him to raise both arms. After the younger complied, he began poking at his sides, feeling at his ribs. "You thought enough of the painting to purchase it?"

"Of course." Ezio couldn't keep the pain from his voice, much to his disappointment. "It will make a good addition to the gallery back at the villa."

"Did you fall?" Leonardo's eyes were narrowed in concentration. "It feels as if one or two of your ribs might be cracked or broken." He poked again, this time with a little more force. "Is this area here tender?" Fingers pressed against already swelling flesh. "You have a gallery?"

"I suppose you could call it that." Ezio answered as he struggled to find a way to word the evening's events without them sounding too horrible. "Just a small collection on the upper floor." He paused, then sighed. "I had a small run in with a guard. And yes, that hurts. I'd appreciate it if you would stop, actually." He wiggled away from the older man, much like a child would from a doting mother.

Leonardo huffed. "That much can be seen." He took a step back, crossing his arms.

"He managed to push me off the rooftop is all." Ezio continued, smiling sheepishly. "My balance was off because of the arrow."

"And? This all does not come from a simple fall into the canal."

"I might have hit an awning on the way down." The assassin finished, the tone of his voice at the end making it sound like a reluctant question.

Leonardo cursed. "You will be your own death someday, _assassino_."

Ezio laughed softly. "My profession is not exactly safe."

Leonardo silenced him with a level glare. "You may stay here for the night. If you have any other injuries, the bandages are there. I am going to bed. Good night." He said tersely, turning on his heel and marching to his room.

Ezio could only watch him go in silent confusion, before reaching for his shirt. _What did I say?_


End file.
